


The Trophy Thief (Behind the door: day 15)

by DoctorBilly



Series: Behind the door: Advent calendar2014 [15]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2777252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorBilly/pseuds/DoctorBilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 15 of my Advent Calendar for 2014. Prompts are from locations behind the <a href="http://www.safestyle-windows.co.uk/secret-door/index.html">Secret Door</a></p><p>Three lonely detectives have a Christmas case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trophy Thief (Behind the door: day 15)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set ten months after the end of [Only Forward](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2112651/chapters/4608687)
> 
>  
> 
> If the image doesn't display on your device, you can see it [ here ](http://doctor-billy.tumblr.com/post/105257302188/behind-the-door-day-15-hampstead-ponds)

 

 

"Sherlock, no. Please. It's Christmas Eve…"

"I would have thought that you would want to be part of this, after your year of almost inactivity."

"I've hardly been inactive by choice. And my ankle is playing up. The last thing I need is to be prancing around Hampstead Heath in the snow. Can't you ask Dimmock?"

"Theo is already on board. It needs three, Lestrade."

"Ask Sally then."

"Unfortunately, Sergeant Donovan does not have the requisite…attributes."

"What attributes?"

"She is a woman, Lestrade."

"Um. Yeah?"

"Do keep up. The ponds are segregated. At least, the one we are interested in is."

"The ponds? The swimming ponds?"

"Yes. Specifically, the men's pond."

"Will I have to swim?"

"Doubtful. But I have team costumes for us to change into. We need to look the part, at least."

"What "part" is that, Sherlock?"

"An amateur team practicing for the Christmas Day race, of course."

"Of course. Why didn't I know that?"

 

*********

 

"Oh, stop it, the pair of you. It's not the first time either of you has seen it."

Lestrade blushes and steps into the blue-and-white striped Edwardian-style bathing suit Sherlock has provided.

Sherlock smirks.

"It's not the tattoo, so much, Greg." Dimmock giggles. "It's what's above it. You've got abs. You been working out?"

"What if I have?"

"Anyone special you doing it for?"

"No. My physio recommended a gym, and I realised I enjoy it. Problem?"

"Absolutely not. It's just, well, a bit… you know…"

Lestrade laughs as Dimmock stutters to a halt.

"Still fancy me then?"

Dimmock and Sherlock both flush and look away.

 

*********

 

"We look as if we're one man short of a barbershop quartet…"

The three detectives are of a height, and remarkably similar in build, when near-naked. Neither Lestrade's method of bulking himself up to make himself intimidating, nor Sherlock's trick of "a good coat and a short friend" can be used in this setting. Dimmock finds himself the mid-point of a narrow spectrum; Sherlock, skinnier, but not as gaunt as Dimmock has seen him in the past; Lestrade, stockier, but harder around the middle than he has been.

"If we're going to sing, Theo should get the melody line." Lestrade laughs. "He's got the best voice."

"Sadly, no singing is required." Sherlock looks a little disappointed. "Observation only tonight."

Lestrade cocks an eyebrow.

"So what's got you interested in this case? Apart from the obvious desire to see me and Theo in our unmentionables?"

"It is intriguing. There is a theft every year during the race. The same object is stolen."

"What gets stolen?"

"The trophy for the men's race."

"Every year? Does it get returned?"

"Yes. It gets returned on New Year's Eve, and is presented at the first club meeting in the new year. It has become something of a tradition. But there is a new club president, and he is determined that the trophy should be awarded at the end of the actual race."

"But the race is tomorrow." Dimmock looks perplexed. "Why are we out here tonight?"

"Scouting out the location. Looking for places where the trophy could be concealed after it has been taken. It should be possible to catch him in the act tomorrow."

"Hmm. How many participants are there in the race?"

"Up to a hundred. It is a bit of a free-for-all."

"And do you think our tea leaf is likely to be a swimmer, or a spectator?"

"A swimmer. Spectators can't get close enough to the changing rooms or the jetty."

"But surely, all eyes will be on the racers…"

"Yes. But not every swimmer is a race participant. There are one or two who just like a little dip every morning. They don't all celebrate Christmas, and they are not likely to let a little thing like a race interfere with their morning immersion."

"Do you think the thief is a non-racing swimmer?"

"It is likely."

"So, who are our suspects?"

 

*********

 

"It has been scientifically proven that you need to be exposed to a virus in order to catch a cold. You cannot catch a cold by simply _getting_ cold…"

"You tell that to my frozen body. Achoo!"

Dimmock is feeling sorry for himself, despite being ensconced in Lestrade's living room, next to the wood-burning stove, and with a large mug of hot toddy cradled in his hands.

Lestrade laughs

"At least you caught the trophy thief."

"And I could have caught him just as easily when he climbed out again. You didn't have to shove me in after him."

"He might have climbed out at the other side of the pond…"

Dimmock concedes Lestrade's point.

"Why me, though? I'm not the best swimmer…"

"You're the youngest of the three of us." Lestrade gives a wry grin. "Least likely to have a heart attack from the shock of the cold water."

"I got algae up my nose. And I'm sure there are creatures living in that water."

Sherlock snorts

"Of course there are creatures, Theo. Although most of them are dormant at this time of year. The wildlife and water vegetation are a major part of the appeal of the ponds. And unlike in swimming pools, there is no chlorination. That is why I swim there. I find the smell of chlorine-based water treatments extremely unpleasant."

Lestrade knows why Sherlock dislikes swimming pools, and changes the subject.

"Will the club want to press charges?"

"No. No one was ever hurt, and he won't do it again. It would be no fun, now they know who did it and where he hid the trophy."

"Clever that, I thought. Hanging it in a net underneath the jetty. Everyone would have walked past it twice every time they took a swim."

"Yes. Of course, if the club had been less parsimonious, and had a larger trophy, it would have been impossible to hide it inside a rolled-up towel."

The three detectives sip their hot toddies. None of them have partners or families to be with this Christmas. They are comfortable in each other's company. Lestrade clears his throat.

"I've got a bit of beef I can roast, if you two want to stay…"

Dimmock nods.

"Yeah. I'd like that. Maybe we could watch an old film on the telly. What about you, Sherlock?"

"I had no plans." He looks at his two friends. "I would like to stay."

Lestrade smiles.

"Good. That's that settled, then. There's mince pies in that tin on the coffee table. Help yourselves."

**Author's Note:**

> Hampstead ponds are wonderful. There are three, one for men, one for women and one mixed, for family swimming. 
> 
> There is a christmas day race, too. But I have taken some liberties with it.


End file.
